


The New Year's Kisses

by Ritt



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, y'all let's smooch these demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritt/pseuds/Ritt
Summary: It's the New Year's celebration, and you’re waiting for midnight to give a kiss to your lover.
Relationships: Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 315





	1. Prelude & Lucifer

The lanterns of different colors float in mid-air above your head and illuminate the halls of the house.

When you came to Hell, you didn't expect the demons would celebrate the New Year. They started preparing a week ahead because someone decided to invite their friends and hold a dinner. You didn't find out whose idea it was or who spread it around.

Probably Asmodeus, you think, with the help of Beelzebub. He loves food, and a celebratory dinner means a lot of food.

You stride across the corridors with a cocktail in your hand. You don't drink it. The demons are engrossed in chatter, with wide smiles and laughter louder than the music at the background. You don't even know where it comes from. Walls? Chandeliers? Lanterns?

The atmosphere is bubbly and light, and it makes your body lighter too. You're alone in a place where everyone is together, but somehow it still makes you smile.

No matter how nice is going around and absorbing the happiness of others, it's better to meet the New Year with someone.

* * *

You find him with Diavolo—of course—but as soon as Diavolo sees you, he leaves with a sly smile.

Before Lucifer can run after Diavolo, you tap him on the shoulder. He turns, frowning, but then relaxes.

“It’s you.” Lucifer smirks. “I figured you wouldn’t be able to stay away from me all night and would come back sooner or later. I was right.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re always right. If you could, you would make the sun rise at noon to prove your rightness.”

“Sometimes I like to sleep a little longer than normal, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle at his grimace, “whatever you say, mister absolute.”

Lucifer breathes in and breathes out. You bet he counts to ten in his mind.

He smiles, not the way he does when someone irritates him, ‘you can’t provoke me, you’ll perish before that.' No. This smile is for you only. It makes his eyes crinkle and softens his features.

“How is the evening?” He gestures to the side, and you both walk to the window, farther away from the other demons. No private place here, just a hope no one will interrupt you. Lucifer keeps talking, “Is everything good? Have you eaten? You shouldn’t drink without eating anything.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I’ve eaten. I don’t drink much, so this is just a decoration,” you place the glass at the windowsill and glance at your wristwatch. It’s almost midnight.

“I see you wear it.”

He takes your hand, brushes his fingers against your knuckles, and slides to your wrist, caressing the lines of your veins. His skin is warm, and you can’t help gravitating closer. Today Lucifer smells like winter—crisp air biting into your lungs. Everything else is going out of the focus. He’s wearing all black, but the lights outline his figure and make him seem like a torch in the darkness.

“Of course,” you say, but words lose meaning, why you’re speaking, stop gazing, “of course I do, it’s your gift. I love it.”

_I love it and…_

He looks into your eyes, drawing you in like an abyss.

A loud sound hits, you blink, but the noise doesn’t stir your mind. Lucifer glances around. Everyone is cheering. Midnight has come. New Year. Midnight. Right. You remember. That’s the only thing you could remember, anyway.

You grab his tie and yank him closer. Lucifer seems surprised. Maybe for your sake. He’s hard to surprise. Maybe not.

“Happy New Year,” you say into his lips. He smiles. You smile too, kissing his cheek and pulling away. He huffs, stunning you, flipping the cards over—the cards, and the world, and your emotions. He slides his hands to your waist, gripping you, hugging you, and you don’t breathe, don’t think, don’t look.

Lucifer kisses you. He’s not just warm, he’s blazing, and you’re burning. If this continues, one day he will turn you into ashes, but for now the clock is striking and you’re smiling through the kiss. Whatever happens, this is worth it.

Lucifer whispers, “Happy New Year.”

You move away, but he doesn’t let you, pressing his hands into your back. It helps you to focus, though your head is still spinning.

You look at him, feeling his heat in your blood and bones. It’s like an inseverable connection; like ‘I’m here.’ ‘I’ll keep you warm.’ ‘Happy New Year.’ ‘Don’t forget about me.’ ‘I love you.’

Lucifer exhales and closes his eyes. He’s trying to calm down, but he’s not irritated. You have another year to explore all the ways he could react to you and how else his face could change when he’s with you. There will be time to poke him more, and you grin, deciding not to comment on his blush.

Lucifer steps back, but keeps hold of your hand. “We should find my brothers. I’m afraid Mammon has caused some trouble by now.”

You nod. It’s the only thing you could do, anyway.


	2. Satan

When you find them in an empty room playing chess, Satan’s smile is so bright, it blinds you. Mammon is sprawled on the sofa, and he frowns, looking between Diavolo and Satan.

You sit down on the free chair. “What’s up?”

“I won.” Satan turns to you, radiating happiness but trying not to be too obvious. His expression makes your heart thud. “For the first time. Can’t believe it. Am I sleeping?”

Diavolo chuckles.

“I could pinch you,” Mammon says. “So what’s the reward?”

Satan snorts. “I’ll punch you if you try. There’s no reward. We play just for fun.”

“For me, I mean. I was your audience, you should give me something for it.”

“No one asked you to be our audience. Get lost.”

You glance at Diavolo, and he winks. Ah. That explains it…

“Yes,” Diavolo says, “we play just for fun, but maybe you could give him a reward for this victory.”

You arch a brow. “Why me if he was playing with you?”

“Because I think your gift would make Satan the happiest.” Diavolo smirks.

You know this expression because you’ve seen it a lot. He wears it when he’s playing tricks. Diavolo plays tricks as well as anyone could expect from the king of Devildom, and now he’s playing one on you.

He’s obvious on purpose. You understand this, and Satan understands too, looking away. Is it because of the lantern’s light reflecting on his skin—the one above you is pink and red—or is he blushing?

Before you can say anything, Diavolo stands up, takes Mammon by the shoulder, and drags him away. He doesn’t resist.

Satan moves to the sofa and pats the place beside him. He rarely shows his affection in public, but the room is empty, and you don’t need to worry about foolish remarks.

The windows are open, it’s snowing outside. You sit beside him, putting the cushions away, and relax, leaning on his chest. Satan hugs you, intervening his fingers with yours. He smells of citrus, and his hands are a bit cold. It would be good to stay like this all night, watch a film, talk in signs. You turn to see his face and notice the confetti in his hair. Yes, a lot of it, and on his clothes too.

So that’s why Asmodeus got a bag full of confetti—to drown his brothers in it. You chuckle.

“What?” he whispers.

“Did you swear revenge on Asmo?”

Satan laughs. “I avenged myself a minute later. He won’t do this again. Not to me, at least. You should’ve seen it.”

“What if he does this to me?”

“I’m sure you can defend yourself. If you can’t, I will.” He smiles and kisses your forehead.

It’s a feast day, a day to be surrounded by the ruckus and the constant motion of celebration, to laugh, present gifts, and be in company of someone.

You want this because alone you feel left out, wrong; it’s a holiday, you must have fun. You want to be alone because staying with everyone for longer than an hour makes you feel misplaced.

At these occasions Satan drinks, laughs, and plays along with his brothers, but after some time no one notices how he slips away from the crowd. His behavior reminds you: it’s alright to seek solitude when everyone is together.

But you’re not alone now.

This side of the world—shining and singing, dancing and drinking—is here, behind the door. You can go if you want, and you can stay if you want. Either way you will feel okay.

“I needed this,” you say, drawing circles on his palm, “this and you.”

Satan can read between the lines. You don’t have to explain, and he doesn’t have to answer.

The clock in the house starts striking, announcing a new year, and you hear cheers in the corridor. Satan rises, pulling you up too.

The wind blows into the room, making you shudder. Satan is warm, and it’s a dizzying contrast.

You’re both smiling. He moves closer, touching his forehead to yours, and you breathe in unison. His cheeks are red, but it’s not the lantern’s fault, and neither the wind causes you to shiver.

You kiss his cheek and the corner of his mouth. Satan exhales, gripping your waist. If someone enters, you won’t stop. Will he? Doesn’t matter. Satan growls and bites your lip. You press into him, pulling at his hair, clothes, and you want him closer, more, but there’s no closer unless you crawl into his soul. It feels like he’s everywhere.

It’s alright to be together, and alone, but you want to be with him.

_I needed him. I want him._

Satan breaks the kiss. He takes all air with him, and you can’t breathe for a moment, and the ceiling is cracking—or it’s the clock—and the room is spiraling. You’ll fall and break.

You don’t. He touches your cheek, looking into your eyes, and you’re here. You’ve never felt so here before. He’s too much. You’ve escaped from it—from the intensity of closeness, from the noise and the burning lights—but he’s a whole another form of ‘too much’, and you want all of it, more. Maybe he should tear your chest apart and take your heart, then your physical state will be the same as your emotional state.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns. “You’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You smile. “A ghost? You’re not that ugly.”

Satan rolls his eyes. “Perhaps you’re just mesmerized by me. Don’t fall, I won’t catch you.” You did. He will.

“That’s something Asmo would say.”

“That’s something you would say to Asmo to provoke him.”

You grin. He keeps his hand on your cheek, and you clutch his wrist. “Then do you acknowledge you’re provoking me?”

Satan smirks. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

You want to curse him a bit for this and for all other things he’s doing to you without knowing, but your brain doesn’t work.

“Cat,” you quip. He laughs. You add, “Kitten.”

Satan frowns. Uh-oh.

“I win this round,” you say. He’s trying to seem serious and angry, but you notice the quiver of his lips. It’s hard not to grin. “You know, more than your normal smile I love the smile you suppress because it usually means you’re irked, and so you lose.”

Satan growls, “Run.”

His voice sends another shiver down your spine. You spin and rush out the door, ducking under Lucifer’s hand. He calls you, and then he calls Satan too, so you run faster. Maybe you should hide somewhere? Lock yourself in a room? No. It doesn’t matter. Satan’s steps are right behind you. But it doesn’t matter too.

Wherever you go, all roads lead to him anyway.


	3. Leviathan

Levi can hide well when he wants, but you always succeed in finding him. You find him this time too. He sits on the sofa, reading something on his phone with a frown.

“That’s a face,” you say, coming to him. He glances at you, surprised, and doesn’t avert his eyes until you sit beside him. “I’m astonished to see you outside your cave. Why are you not with others?”

“They’re driving me crazy.” He huffs and shakes his head, putting his phone away. You laugh at his aggravated expression and receive a glare. “Each one of them is so energetic, even standing next to them feels like a plague is devouring my brain.”

“You’re skipping all the fun. I heard Mammon threw a cake in Lucifer’s face.”

Levi arches a brow. “What, really? I hope someone took a photo. We should print out several copies and hang them on the walls.” He grins, and devious sparks flare up in his eyes. “In the morning after this chaotic night no one will know for sure who’s at fault.” 

You snort. “I don’t know if someone was fast enough to catch the moment before Lucifer ran after Mammon, everything happened in a second like Lucifer had prepared for this. At least it added to the merry atmosphere. Tomorrow will be entertaining.” 

“I had no doubt they would find a way to have fun. And you…” Levi pauses, glancing away. “Have you had fun?”

It sounds off-hand, but you think this question has been spinning on his mind all this time. Where have you been? With whom?

You snuggle against his side, smirking. “How in hell could I have fun without you?”

He purses his lips, trying to cover his goofy smile, and blushes when your eyes meet. You don’t let him answer or turn away—you grab him and push him down. Levi yelps. The sofa creaks as you try to settle in a comfortable position. Levi’s not soft to lie on, but it’ll suffice.

“What are you—” he whispers, choking on his words when you hug him tighter.

You lean your ear to his chest and listen to his racing heartbeat. He won’t say some things, but his heart can say it for him.

Levi gulps and places his hand on your waist. However much he pretends to be bold, he should be deep red by now.

“You’re so tense.”

“Ugh.” Levi grumbles something under his breath. “Stop talking.”

Was it ‘you’ll be the death of me’? You let it slide. You won’t be, of course. But he might become yours.

His heart beats like a bird in a cage—you can say it about your heart too. The satisfaction of this day has caught up to you only now, in a form of Levi’s warmth, your entangled legs, and nervous tapping of his fingers on your side. Behind the half-opened door you hear the clicking of glasses, the demons’ muffled voices, and Mammon’s screaming—anyone can hear him from anywhere in the house. It reminds you about the times with Levi when you play games in his room with music at the background. You’re not playing now, and there’s no music except in the main halls, but it feels the same—intimate and sacred, something for you two and no one else.

The door opens and hits the wall with a bang. Asmodeus comes in, and Levi jolts to stand up, but he can’t do it with you on top. You press him down. 

“O-o.” Asmodeus grins, his expression is that of the Cheshire cat. “Hello, dear. And Levi. You two look cozy.”

You squint. “Any demon with his hands behind his back shouldn’t be trusted.”

Asmodeus chuckles, giving you a bright smile. “Any demon shouldn’t be trusted.”

He throws something up. You hide your face on Levi’s chest before the confetti falls on you. The door clicks shut a second later, and you huff. Asmodeus knows how to choose his battles and how to run away, at least faster than Mammon.

Levi splutters. “Seriously? Confetti?” Again. “What is he, twelve years old?” And again. “I’ve eaten more of this than any food today. What’s funny, huh? You’re lucky you could move and avoid the paper stuffed into your mouth. That damn bastard—”

You rise up on your elbows, roll on top of Levi, and give him a peck on his lips. He goes quiet in a second. Eyes open wide, disheveled hair—a vivid contrast to his red cheeks. ‘Overly cute for a demon’ almost slips from the tip of your tongue, but you’re too close, and he looks at you funny, strange—like he’s expecting something, wanting, asking with his eyes. He probably could look this way at you for all eternity. But you don’t have all eternity, and you don’t want to think about it. So you kiss him. He exhales and holds you closer. That’s it. That’s the only thing you want—him touching you more because you don’t know how much time you have left. The human’s life is fleeting.

You kiss him, hoping he’ll never forget you. He can forget your words, they don’t matter. He can forget your face, it’s not important. Your thoughts blend and echo inside your mind. ‘Remember, you should remember me all your life’; and ‘I was with you, I existed’; and ‘everyone can forget, but you’re not allowed.’

‘You must remember because I want to be important to you.’

You break the kiss, gripping his shoulders—anchoring yourself or him; or both. Levi tries to even his breath, and you wonder if there’s a possibility he could hear what’s going on in your head.

He’s the Avatar of Envy, maybe he could understand—you want something, and you want it just for yourself, completely, forever, so no one will take it from you. You can’t speak about this, it’s selfish. He’s a demon, he could outlive every human on the Earth; he moved on from his sister’s death, he would move on from yours, and it would be for the best. Maybe. You don’t know. You don’t want to know, ever. 

Levi cups your cheek, bringing you back to reality, and grunts. “You should’ve done it when Asmo came. I bet his face would’ve been hilarious.”

“Oh?” You smirk. “I don’t think we can take him by surprise with this, but I’ll remember your wish. Though I suspect it has nothing to do with Asmo, right?”

Levi fidgets, looking around as if searching for words in the air, and then yanks you closer. He kisses you, cutting off any quips you have. You smile through the kiss, feeling him pinching your arm, and bite his lip.

The door opens again. You sigh, moving away from Levi. He glares at the entrance.

Satan looks between you with a light smirk. “You should get a room. There are children, you know.”

“Mammon’s not here,” Asmodeus says behind him.

“Not yet.”

Mammon roars somewhere in the corridor, “Who are you calling a child?”

Levi squeezes his eyes shut and groans.


End file.
